


Perception before darkness

by Thetalkingcherry



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, This one focuses on Oropher and his peculiar ability, and one of my OCs, back in Doriath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:59:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thetalkingcherry/pseuds/Thetalkingcherry
Summary: Oropher doesn't know he has a peculiar ability, and then Finwe dies...and a couple of thousand years later Eöl dies and this time he knows that something is happening and he must tell his brother...Thingol is worried about something else though...
Kudos: 2





	Perception before darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my other series of stories, and yet you don't have to read my other fics to understand this one.  
> A quick summary: In my stories Thingol and Oropher are siblings, therefore, Oropher is the Prince and is basically the right hand of his brother.
> 
> Note that is not exactly relevant to this story but I still feel the need to mention: Luthien is the Crown Princess, so the throne goes to her if her father is gone because I refuse to even acknowledge that "only male heirs" bullshit.
> 
> I hope you like it!

He felt it that day. He felt like he was the one being engulfed by darkness, being pierced by a sword made out of black smoke and left crumbling on the cold floor, his long black hair tangled. He had seen his blood drip and paint the marble a dark red, he had tried to breathe but found himself chocking on liquid. He had felt sorrow for people he didn’t know, and anguish, so much anguish for a future yet to come, a strange sensation…

And then like he had just woken up from a dream he blinked and was once again next to the cradle where son was peacefully sleeping.

Oropher had interpreted it like a bad omen, a sign that something could happen in the future. For the next 200 years he thought it to be no more than a dream, that was until his brother had confirmed the death of Elwë, killed by the very hand of Morgoth which had, in turn, caused a wave of catastrophic events that had lead the Noldor to the kinslaying at Alqualondë and driving them straight to Beleriand. It had been no coincidence, he knew it.

Hundreds of years had passed and he found himself not by a cradle that softly swayed a baby, but talking to Lady Dailamere, who excitedly told him all about how his son, now nearly a thousand years of age, had easily mastered the way of the sword and had developed a peculiar instinct that allowed him to seemingly predict his opponent’s movements.

“You should go by the training ring tomorrow morning, Oropher, he certainly has the ferocity of his father and I must say that his technique is one of a kind, and by that I mean he completely transformed it to his liking—” Oropher heard no more, for this time he was dressed in pure black, his now brown hair fell on his face as he was being dragged to the cliff, he felt anger and betrayal, a fury burned deep inside of him. He was pushed to the precipice and was met with darkness that just as quickly as it came dissipated and he was once again with the General, he had stopped walking, staying completely still through the vision.

The Lady noticing, had turned and was staring at him with a worried expression and hurriedly came to his side in case he tumbled, but he felt no pain, he was completely fine, except this time and this time he understood perfectly, it had been clearer. His mind told him a single word before the darkness of death had woken him up from the dream.

The General had motioned for the nearby guards to come over, he must have looked pale. “Oropher? What is it?” Dailamere looked at him with concern, he shook his head.

“Please excuse me, I must see Thingol immediately” And before she could answer he ran towards the direction of the Throne room, where he was sure he would find him.

The guards opened the doors for him after a bow and he was met with his brother, Lady Melian and three of his advisors. Without a pause he spoke. “King Thingol, I must speak to you at once” Thingol turned towards him and frowning he walked to meet him.

Interrupting the talking advisor, Thingol inmediately turned to him. “What is it brother?” He asked with concern drawn on his features.

Thingol and Oropher shared many similarities, as brothers, having awaken together linked as siblings, they shared almost identical features and similar nature, although their personalities could be complete opposites at times. It was not common to see the brothers in a state of distress so grand, as Oropher was in that moment, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Eöl, our nephew has died today, less than ten minutes ago, he has fallen to his death, not by choice but dragged towards the precipice where he was pushed to die, filled with anger and betrayal”

The room was silent and Oropher explained then what he had felt the day Thingol’s _fëa_ _brother_ had been murdered, how the same experience had happened again, this time without the pain but a vision exactly as vivid as the last one and Thingol understood, and Melian did as well, but she felt for the Prince, for she knew that it would be something that would bring him great grief in his life, after all, feeling the agony of a departing soul was painful, even more so of those that were family or were bonded together as family. 

(Oropher had decided to keep to himself the fact that he had felt a pain even greater when his spouse had left the world to sleep in the Great Halls)

The counselors were dismissed and when it was just the three of them in the room Thingol spoke:

“Eöl…he scaped the city before it was closed, refusing to stay in Menegroth and preferring to seek the darkness of the forest of Nan Elmoth, befriending the Naugrim and learning their secrets, I had not seen him since” He recalled.

Oropher nodded, remembering the elfing clinging to his uncle’s leg, not wanting to let go. “He always preferred the company of the darkness and the stars, even when his father, Ingwë, sailed to Aman”

After a moment Thingol spoke again, this time he looked at Oropher’s eyes. “Who has killed him, then?” But Oropher did not have the answer.

“That I know not, for I only saw and felt what he did on the last moments before his passing. He is in the Halls of Mandos, now”

“No Sindar would kill a Lord of Doriath, it must have been the doing of the Noldor” Thingol concluded and even in the guarded room his eyes grew weary.

“But why? he has not ever left the forest he inhabited, and if the Noldor had invaded or hunted there, then the Naugrim that inhabit on the caves of Nogrod and Belegost that pass near Nan Elmoth from the blue mountains would have bring word. By that logic, Eöl must have left the forest by himself, an event that seems almost impossible…”

“Unless he was looking for something” Queen Melian intervened, and the brothers were silent. She was right, it was the only reasonable conclusion, but…what had he been looking for?

Thingol walked to the Throne and he sat there taking his wife’s hand in his “I know not, but my heart feels heavy with the news, that is only a sign that we must be ever more careful with those of the houses of Fëanor and Fingolfin” The King concluded, and he called his counselors to be back once again.

Oropher knew his brother, he knew that that weariness had transformed into hatred towards the Noldor, he understood of course, he knew what they had done. They were cursed, the blood of their kin fresh on their swords had left a mark that could never be vanished, and yet, his brother’s reaction had made his mind feel heavy. 

He turned around and left the room then, with thoughts in his mind and a heavy heart.

_What a peculiar ability,_ he reflected, he was gifted with the chance to feel and communicate, but what misery could that be. He prayed that he never had to feel it again, never had to lose someone close, his family.

The mere thought made his head ache, his breath stop and his heart beat faster.

Deep inside he knew _, oh Yavanna he knew,_ he would feel it again in the future, after all they were immortal but could be wounded or killed.

Anguish filled his veins as he speculated on the uncertain future.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction inspired in the books of J R R Tolkien, therefore, the characters belong to Tolkien, while the story itself and the characters never mentioned in the books by the author (i.e. original characters) belong to me.


End file.
